


fragile (like snowflakes drifting)

by starxreactor



Series: Stony Bingo 2019 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Blizzards & Snowstorms, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sharing a Bed, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 05:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17892689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starxreactor/pseuds/starxreactor
Summary: A blast of bitter, raw wind forced its way in. Steve whipped his head around, catching a glimpse of pure white before Tony shut and locked the door. Now that he thought about it, the air was absolutely frigid. It had been before, of course, but now he could feel it embedding itself into his bones, freezing him from the inside out – like–No, don’t go there. This wasn’t the time.Tony barked out a sharp note of laughter. “Well, guess it’s too late for that.” He eyed the measly pile of wood left by the fireplace. “Okay,” he said, taking in a deep breath. Steve caught his hand rubbing at his arc reactor and he frowned. Tony never talked about when it pained him, but Steve knew him well enough by now to be able to tell. “Okay,” Tony repeated. “We can do this.” It seemed he had said that specifically for Steve, because he smiled at him reassuringly.Square Y5 – sharing a bed for the Stony Bingo





	fragile (like snowflakes drifting)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Espresso-Patronum for cheer reading this, and my lovely wife duckmoles for just. Reading it. Love you guys <3
> 
> Fill for the Stony Bingo square Y5 – sharing a bed.

It was supposed to be a regular mission.

A simple one, really, just reconnaissance. It was just the two of them, because even SHIELD knew that Captain America and Iron Man worked best with each other.

For a week, they would stay in a cabin while scouting out the area. Supposedly, there was a HYDRA base nearby, and they would gain as much information as possible.

It was a nice cabin, too, if old. Spacious, beautifully designed. The furniture wasn’t old and musty. The only problem was that there wasn’t a thermostat for some reason and it was winter, but that was fine, they had made sure to bring warm layers and they could easily chop wood for the fireplace.

Tony had adapted easily, much easier than Steve had thought. When Steve had asked, all Tony said was, “I’ve had to survive in worse situations,” and that was that.

Steve had a feeling he knew what Tony meant, and he decided it was better that he didn’t think of that, because otherwise he felt the urge to beat up some people.

Steve huffed as he slammed the door behind him, turning to Tony, who was stoking the fire. “Nothing?” Tony asked as he handed Steve a steaming mug. He glanced down. Hot chocolate.

He blinked at Tony, who shrugged. “I thought you would appreciate it after spending all that time out there in the cold.”

A soft, pleasant feeling curled in his chest that had nothing to do with the hot chocolate. Despite the flippant Tony way could act, he really cared about making sure everyone was comfortable. Safe.

He curled up in the couch by the fireplace, sighing as the warmth sank into his bones, chasing away the whispers of the ice and water drowning his head. He could handle the cold more than most people, obvious considering his “ice bath,” but that was physically. Mentally was another thing entirely that he didn’t want to think about right now.

Steve was certain it was the opposite for Tony.

He was all warmth and fire, bright like the sun and a phoenix rising from its ashes – and yet, he couldn’t stand the heat anymore. Not after Afghanistan.

Steve nearly laughed at the thought. He had always seen himself as the ice to Tony’s fire, and yet it was the opposite for what temperatures they preferred.

Realizing Tony was waiting for an answer, he shook his head. “No. Nothing. But I’m sure there’s something out there.”

Tony was looking out the window. His brow furrowed. “It’s already getting dark and it’s snowing pretty heavily. Hopefully it won’t be too much.”

Steve approached him, gazing out as well. There were intense, dark clouds, threatening something bad with the way they were roiling. “The forecasts didn’t say anything about there being a snowstorm.”

Tony sighed, pulling the curtains over the window and then throwing himself on the couch and spreading out. Steve settled more gingerly on the side. “Who was in charge of this cabin? Not building a thermostat was a real oversight on their part. I don’t care if it’s from the fucking 1700s or whatever, SHIELD could have updated that at some point. It has Wi-Fi, after all.”

“It is,” Steve said softly, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. It was the ready-made kind that came in a powder, but he still was taken back to the few times his ma could afford chocolate and made some for him. Memories of feeling warm, a soft glow radiating from the center of his chest, bombarded him, and he smiled at them. “I’m going to have some words with Fury once we get back.” And then, “Should I – I’ll go out, chop some more wood for the fireplace. Just in case.” He didn’t want to go out, even now he could feel the icy fingers clawing their way up his spine, but he could chop much more than Tony.

“No,” Tony said immediately. “You’ve done enough today. I’ll go.” Without waiting for a retort, he stood up and opened the front door.

A blast of bitter, raw wind forced its way in. Steve whipped his head around, catching a glimpse of pure white before Tony shut and locked the door. Now that he thought about it, the air was absolutely frigid. It had been before, of course, but now he could feel it embedding itself into his bones, freezing him from the inside out – like–

No, don’t go there. This wasn’t the time.

Tony barked out a sharp note of laughter. “Well, guess it’s too late for that.” He eyed the measly pile of wood left by the fireplace. “Okay,” he said, taking in a deep breath. Steve caught his hand rubbing at his arc reactor and he frowned. Tony never talked about when it pained him, but Steve knew him well enough by now to be able to tell. “Okay,” Tony repeated. “We can do this.” It seemed he had said that specifically for Steve, because he smiled at him reassuringly.

Steve sat there, frozen, as Tony gathered up dish towels, forcing them into the crack between the door and the ground, and plugging up the windows.

Steve was shaken out of his paralysis when Tony said, with an armful of logs, “Come into my room. It’ll be better in a smaller room since I also have a fireplace there. And get your sweaters and jackets. Everything you have that’s warm.”

Steve nodded blankly. It took a few seconds for him to register Tony’s words, and he mechanically stood. He gathered up his clothes and quilt, walking into Tony’s room and standing there. He felt like he wasn’t in his own body. Everything felt surreal, tinged with a layer of frost. He wondered if the cold was already getting to him.

Tony was getting the fireplace ready, and he had on what seemed like three layers of sweaters. He glanced over at Steve. “By my estimation, it’s about negative twenty degrees Fahrenheit outside. Put something on.”

It wasn’t lost on Steve that he was the one following Tony’s orders. Sure, they technically co-led the team, but it was mostly Steve giving the orders.

Now, all he could feel was the frost on his tongue, freezing it in place. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, when the ice was slowly creeping in, crawling its way to his heart and numbing his mind and limbs.

Even the fire radiating from Tony wasn’t enough to melt the bleakness Steve had lost himself in.

He set down the pile on the floor, pulling on several sweaters just as Tony had done. Then he seated himself on the bed, watching as Tony puttered around, trying his best to ensure what heat was in the room would be conserved.

“You alright?” Tony asked, turning to look at Steve, who glanced up at him. The crackling fire was reflected in his eyes, or was that the natural warmth Steve saw so much in them?

“I – I’m fine,” Steve said slowly. He watched as an ember flickered out. He wanted to reach out to the blaze, feel its warmth wash over him and fill him with liquid fire that burnt out the grayness around him. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, however. He couldn’t make that extra leap, not when the cold was slogging him down like this, the chill reaching its way into his very muscle, his bone, ensnaring him in its tendrils. He felt like he was drowning, like he couldn’t breathe because of the glaciers in his lungs.

“I don’t think so,” the fire said softly. There was a bite to his voice, one that spoke of suppressed pain. Steve looked over at him. He was shivering just standing there. “Get into the bed. It’ll be better if we share our body heat.”

What heat? All Steve could feel was the snowflakes in his hair and the frost on his bones. But he nodded, standing up and pulling away the blankets. Tony crawled in, gesturing to Steve once he was settled.

Steve went in, immediately latching onto his tiny sun, desperate for the slightest bit of relief from this biting cold. He could feel softness brushing over his shoulders, and then arms circle around him, pressing him against a chest. There was a repetitive _ba-thump_ against his ear, and he pressed into it, trying his best to crawl out of his skin and burrow into that comforting sound, wrap it around him until all he could feel was a balmy, bright comfort and he no longer had this feeling of death and water and ice whispering into his ear, beckoning him closer until it choked him.

“How are you feeling?” a voice murmured suddenly, chasing away the spirits.

“Mm,” Steve mumbled, letting the glow wash over him. “I – what–”

“Shh.” A soft touch brushed his hair back. He pressed insistently into the touch, seeking more of it. It held the words and feelings at bay, stopping them from pulling him down into the depths, until all he knew was the frigid darkness filling him up, flushing out the blood and replacing it with ice water. “Don’t force yourself to speak if you can’t.”

“To – ny,” Steve forced out.

“I get it, you know,” Tony breathed. “We all joke about it, you included, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t creep up at the wrong times and paralyze you. Take the breath out of you, choke you, _drown_ you.”

Steve was entranced, staring up at Tony the way a baby stared up at their mother – like she was their salvation, the only constant in their life. It was the deep, rich tones along with the strong arms encircling him that fought back the darkness threatening to consume him, to pull him out from the water where the cold hands could grab at his neck, drag him down to the depths where no one would ever find again.

He even felt a slight warmth blooming in his chest, like the budding flowers in springs, like the rise of a phoenix after its rebirth, slowly spreading to his extremities and clearing up the paralysis that seemed to have taken control of his limbs.

“There you go,” Tony – his fire, his sun, his phoenix – said, holding him closer. “Just listen to my voice, okay? We’ll get out of this.” There was no quiver, no feather-light tremble that laced his words, but Steve could feel the hitch in his chest.

“Are – are you – cold?” Steve said.

“Don’t think about, Steve,” came the reprimand. There was a pause. “But no. I have my own personal heater.”

Steve attempted to lift his head so he could search for it. “Where?” he said when a hand pushed him back down.

“I meant you, you idiot.” There was a shadow of laughter as he spoke, and Steve embraced it, pulling it deep into himself and storing it in his heart, where he could never lose the memory.

Then Tony’s words hit him. “Oh. I – I’m not – a block of–” he cleared his hoarse throat, “–of ice?” _Like before_ , he whispered in his head.

“...No. You’re not. And you never will be. I’ll make sure of that,” Tony said fiercely, just like the sparkling blue fire he had created and captured in his chest, a reminder of his warmth and generosity and kindness. Of his rebirth – like the flowers in spring, like a phoenix.

“I…” Steve grasped onto him tighter as he felt another wave close up on his back, dragging him over. He couldn’t go overboard again, he couldn’t, he wasn’t strong enough–

“Shh, it’s fine,” Tony said, with a tinge of desperation, “we’re fine, the fire’s not out, okay? It’s right here and we’ll be fine.”

Steve blinked up at him, almost not comprehending his words. “The fire’s – out?” He was back enough that he could tell that Tony was lying, just trying to lighten everything so up so he didn’t go back under.

“We’re fine,” Tony repeated firmly. The cold had sneaked its way into his voice, because it was weaker, trembling, and Steve couldn’t watch this happen to Tony, too – it was bad enough that he had been incapacitated, he couldn’t let his enemy take control of Tony.

He could feel the temperature dropping again, or was that just him? It seemed to be even worse this time, because even his fire, his _sun_ , was wilting, water dousing him from the inside out. He was starting to shiver, and there were little icicles in his breath. Steve watched the cloud form, before it dissipated into the rest of the air. It was beautiful, in a way, and that was the tragedy of all of this, wasn’t it, because how could something so gorgeous, so – aesthetically pleasing to the artist inside of him, something so pure and innocuous, be so cruel, so harsh?

“Steve, stay with me,” Tony said. His hands were like patches of fire where they grabbed onto his cheeks, turning his head so that he was staring straight into Tony’s eyes. “You can’t fall under again, okay? I know it’s hard, but just take a deep breath.”

Steve did as Tony said, because it was all he could do now, latch onto his words like they were the warmth of the sunlight, but as he breathed in through his nose, he could feel pinpricks of ice biting into him, into his lungs, cutting them into pieces, into shreds of tissue and muscle.

There was another searing brand on his cheek, and Steve turned into it, desperately soaking up the feeling. “It hurts, but just keep breathing. Focus on that, if nothing else.”

His lips were turning blue, Steve noted. A beautiful blue, like the clear sky his sun was found in, like the petals of a blooming flower, like the ocean on –

Not the ocean. The ocean was not – his lips weren’t supposed to be blue, Steve realized. “Tony…”

His hand covered his mouth. “Shh, don’t say anything. We’ll make it out of here, the two of us.” Tony pulled the softness enveloping the two closer around them, until it was over their heads as well. He patted it down, making sure it was airtight save for a little pocket near their heads for them to breathe from. Steve lied there the entire time, focusing on his breath the way the sun had told him to.

“Just – wait, okay? We’ll be fine. It’s warm enough in here.”

Steve blinked at him, thoughts sluggish like the water that had brushed past him while he was – while he was in the ice.

While he _was_ in the ice. He wasn’t, not anymore. He had his own small sun to take care of him.

Steve took a breath, and then another, feeling suddenly as though he were waking up from a long, deep sleep. “I…” Now that he was fully hidden from the ghosts in his past that had been lurking around the bed, his mind finally seemed to be snapping back to itself. He reached over to grab Tony’s hand for support as the ice water rushed around his ears, draining away along with the memories and feelings haunting him.

Steve immediately let go of the hand as though it had burned him, but it couldn’t have, because he might as well have taken a handful of snow. “Tony, your hand–”

“It’s fine, Steve. Just focus on yourself.” Steve could only see a slight glint that must be Tony’s eyes, but the image of his blue lips was clear in his head.

“No, Tony, you’re freezing. I can’t let you–”

That same hand pressed over his mouth, quieting him. He recoiled slightly at the sensation of ice on his lips. “Steve. It’s fine. I run colder than most people because of the arc reactor.”

“But just a few minutes ago, you were – you were like fire, like the sun. How did you…”

Tony sighed, because he could feel a rush of hot air on his face, and he closed his eyes, “I don’t know what you mean by that, I was just normal. At least you seem to be feeling a little better.” There was rustling, and Steve felt Tony press against him further. “Here. Come closer.”

Steve brought his arm up, wrapping it around Tony’s waist, pulling him in close. “I’m sorry, about...whatever that was.”

“Don’t be,” Tony said immediately. “It was understandable, after everything you’ve been through. I’m just glad you’re okay now. I was…” His voice thickened slightly, rough and gravelly. Not at all the honey-like smoothness that had kept Steve from spiralling all the way down into the deep. “Really worried about you.”

Steve was at a loss over what to say to that. What could he? Thank you. “...Okay,” he said lamely.

Tony was a burst of passion, always moving, always thinking, always working, never stopping for one moment to take a break. He radiated energy as bright as the core of a star – a supernova in progress. Still, fires died out. Even stars died. That energy would eventually be transferred somewhere else.

Steve – Steve, in contrast, was immovable, a solid rock, foundation – as still as the ocean on a clear summer day. But that was only surface level, because one single disturbance, the slightest brush of a insect’s wings, could stir up a storm, a cascading wave that just got stronger and stronger.

He supposed that was what led to the next few moments. He barely recognized his own voice as he said, “Tony, I can’t sit here like this.”

“What...what are you talking about?”

Steve shuffled around, grabbing the edge of the blanket covering them. “I have to go look.”

He felt coldness seize his wrist, and Steve nearly flinched, before realizing it was just Tony. “Steve, no. We can just wait, okay? The blizzard will die out eventually.”

“How long will that take? They can last for days. Are we supposed to waste away out here, with no food, water, or heating?”

It was like Steve had completely reversed in his focus. He was no longer listening to Tony as he pulled the blanket away, taking in a fresh breath of freezing air into his lungs, swearing he could feel the air swirling around as it crystallized in his – no, he was not doing that again. Not with Tony.

Tony pushed himself up onto his elbows, eyes wide. “Steve? What are you – no! Get back in bed!”

Steve threw the blanket back over Tony. “Stay here, okay? I can handle the cold better than you. I’ll be right back, I just had to see if I can reach the quinjet–”  
  
“No!” Steve had turned by that point, running out of the room, but he could hear the sounds of Tony struggling to get out of the bed. “Steve, you fucking idiot! Come back!”

Steve almost didn’t feel the chilly air biting at him as he sprinted through the tiny cabin, leaping over the couch. It was better to start the adrenaline pumping in his blood early, so that he would be prepared for what was outside. He could hear Tony shouting after him, possibly running after him because he would just be that dumb.

Still, it was too late to go back now, Steve thought as he opened the front door only to be met in the face with a burst of wind and snow as sharp as knives, tearing into his skin through the layers of clothes he had. He couldn’t see anything beyond a veil of white, beckoning him to his death, but he had an eidetic memory, it was okay, he knew where the quinjet was.

The wind was roaring in his ear as he waded out into the snow, threatening to drown him with flashes of the ocean that haunted him in his dreams at night, the waves lapping over his head and trickles of sunlight leaking in – the only light he had, the only bit of Tony bleeding through.

It was that reminder of Tony that kept him from losing it again, from sinking to the bottom. He was doing this for Tony, to save him, because Steve knew it, he had known it since he had first seen those tinges of beautiful blue on Tony’s lips – Tony wouldn’t have survived past this first night, he would have frozen to death, and Steve would have followed him soon after, too paralyzed with grief to do anything else but lie there until his only blanket was the snow and there were ice crystals growing in his hair and eyelashes.

His fingers were getting numb, and his face felt raw, chapped, bleeding, with the way it was getting beat at by the air, but still he steadily made his dash in the direction of the quinjet. He couldn’t be wrong about this, because if he was then he would have doomed himself, and Tony, to certain death. 

A distorted screaming rang through the air, and Steve shook his head. He couldn’t get distracted by the wind right now. He had a mission to complete.

The quinjet was not this far. It was invisible, sure, but that didn’t matter regardless because Steve wouldn’t have been able to see it anyway, not until he ran into it. Steve reached out his arms, stretching as far as he could, to try and feel the slightest bit of unyielding metal.

His heart was ready to sink, lose itself back in those great, watery depths, because he had failed to save himself. He had failed to save Tony.

But then he felt a strange pressure on his numb fingers. Steve gasped, accidentally inhaling bitter snow, and he crept closer in the direction he could feel the pressure. He expected to walk straight into the quinjet at any moment, but what he felt in the collision was much softer. Smaller.

No. He couldn’t – he _would_ have followed him, because that was Iron Man, wasn’t it? Following Captain America to the ends of the earth. Steve pulled the shivering, icy body into his arms, pressing his lips to his ear under the guise of trying to talk to him, but really he just wanted to express his love and adoration, because that was what this was, he loved Tony and he could never live with himself if Tony died or got hurt – especially because of him. “Tony, what are you doing here?”

Tony’s teeth were clattering together so hard he could barely move his mouth to speak. “I – y – you – idi – ot–”  
  
Steve realized his mistake and pressed his unfeeling finger to Tony’s lips. “Shh. Just, come with me. The quinjet is here somewhere.” Despite his proximity to Tony’s ear, he still had to shout just to hear himself over the rush of the snow. Grabbing Tony, he held him close to his chest and began to walk against the wind blowing in all directions.

The switch in their roles wasn’t lost on him.

With Tony, he couldn’t run the way he had been before, so he reached down and scooped him up bridal style. Tony was so out of it he didn’t even protest, or Steve just didn’t hear him. He broke into a run in the same direction Tony had come from, because if he had been behind Steve then the quinjet must be in that area.

His pants were soaked, and he could feel the chill even through the four, five layers he had forced on. The wet snow was seeping into his bones, and still he pushed on. Tony had had his time to take charge, watch over Steve. Now it was Steve’s turn to pay him back before they froze out here.

He was realizing now that this may not have been the smartest decision. He just didn’t know what else to do – Tony would have died, and then what would Steve have done, when his heart, his light, his sun, would have frozen over?

Steve gasped as he nearly tripped over a root, catching himself at the last second. Thank god, he didn’t know if he could handle hurting Tony, when this was all his fault.

Why, why did he not think? He was usually better with that, now. He tried to consider the consequences of his actions, at least when there was someone else at risk.

But now Tony, his fire, his sun, was freezing to death, all because Steve couldn’t settle down for one second. And after all that time Tony spent caring for Steve while he was in the midst of that PTSD attack.

Steve couldn’t do anything right, could he.

Still, he mustered up what remained of his strength, forcing his legs to wade through the knee-deep piles of snow, keeping hold of Tony despite being unable to even feel his weight with his numb arms.

He was more ice than human by this point, it was only the passionate fire in his heart that he had gained from Tony keeping him from completely freezing over.

He trudged through the snow, feeling the numbness spreading to the rest of his body until he was as cold as the air around him. Still, his heart burned like a star.

And then.

And then.

Steve bumped into something, something that was completely invisible but he felt himself sob, if he could even release actual tears before they crystallized. They were safe. Inside, it would be warm and there was a medical kit and they could communicate – and.

One step at a time.

First he had to get in and actually save Tony from dying of hypothermia. Steve felt along the edges until he located the pad that would scan his handprint and eyes. He barely waited for the ramp to fully lower before he was running in and shutting the door behind him. Steve let out a breath of relief at finally being in an enclosed space with proper heating.

After being in the blizzard for so long, the slightest bit of warmth felt like it was searing his frozen skin, melting it till all that was left was white bone. He couldn’t imagine how Tony felt.

Tony. God, was he even – Steve couldn’t think about it. He was not losing Tony the same way he once lost himself.

He placed Tony down on the stretcher gently, ripping away his soaked clothing. Steve ignored his own cold pains, grabbing the blankets and softly covering him with them. There should be some drinks with electrolytes lying around, hopefully they were warm enough right now. But – Tony was unconscious, so that wouldn’t work.

Steve patted the blankets, making sure he was warm and dry. Tony’s lips and face were slowly regaining the color they originally had. He was still unconscious, but that was okay, Steve was monitoring his breathing and heart rate.

Finally, once he felt he had done all he could, he let himself lean against the wall for a moment, catching his breath. Then he moved over to the cockpit, activating the connection to JARVIS. Steve knew Tony had built these to withstand nearly any situation, it could handle a blizzard.

“JARVIS? You there?”

“Hello, Captain Rogers.” JARVIS sounded as frazzled as possible for an AI. “It’s nice to hear your voice after we lost all contact.”  
  
Steve’s breath hitched, whether it was a laugh or a sob was unclear even to him. “Well, a blizzard will do that. We’re...in the quinjet right now. We need help. _Tony_ needs help. He has hypothermia, I think.”  
  
“Already done. The Avengers and SHIELD have been alerted. Did you go out in the blizzard?” JARVIS asked.

Steve sank down onto the ground, feeling a pang in his chest that had nothing to do with the snowflakes in his lungs. “I did. Tony followed me.”

“I see,” JARVIS said. There was no waver in his voice, no hint of emotion, and Steve had to remind himself he was talking to an AI. He wasn’t angry at Steve, (oh but he was, Steve could tell when JARVIS was angry at him simply by the way he spoke and this was exactly that). “The Avengers will be there soon to retrieve you. Keep track of Mr. Stark until then. Please.”  
  
“Will do, JARVIS.” The comm cut off, and Steve sighed, making his way over to sit by Tony’s stretcher. He watched him for a long while, keeping track of every snuffle and hitch in his breath, pressing a finger to his wrist to monitor his pulse, until finally his eyelids drooped down and all he could see were paintings of blinding white, of bright blue surrounded by warm reds and oranges.

He wanted to reach out, to touch the fire, to hold it in his arms and never let go–

* * *

Steve awoke with a gasp.

One moment all he could see and hear was the whistle of white as it whipped past his head, drowning out any other sight or sound. The next he was staring up at a shock of deep red framing a pale face.

“Great job,” Natasha said, “you nearly turned yourself into a block of ice again.”

Steve groaned and turned his head away from her. He didn’t have the energy to deal with this. “Oh, fuck you. How’s Tony?”

“He’s fine,” Natasha said lowly. “He should be waking up soon.”

Steve glanced around the room, inspecting its contents. It was filled with high-tech equipment he couldn’t even pretend to understand and was completely empty save for the two of them. The Helicarrier’s medbay. “I didn’t need medical treatment.”

“Steve, you walked around in a blizzard for god knows how long. Even Thor would have some trouble after that.” And then, softly, she said, “How did you do it? I would have thought – with your history–”  
  
“I nearly did,” Steve cut her off quietly, recalling the roar of the wind, the feeling of snow enveloping him, turning into his second skin. “But it was my su – uh, Tony, he got me through it. I did it for him. Because I knew, otherwise, he would die.”  
  
Natasha closed her eyes at that. “It was still dumb.” She let out a sigh, standing up. “I'll tell the rest of the team you're awake and get a doctor.” Natasha headed to the exit, then paused in the doorway, looking over her shoulder at Steve. “And, Steve? I would have done the same thing. For you or for him.”  
  
She didn’t give Steve a chance to respond, running from her heart at the slightest bit of emotion. Still, he smiled, knowing how much he could trust this team.

It wasn’t long before a doctor came back to check up on him, and soon he was declared healthy enough to get out of bed and see Tony. The doctor had barely finished his sentence before Steve was out the door and running down the hall.

It didn’t occur to him that he didn’t know where Tony was kept, all that mattered to him was finding the sun, his beautiful, radiant light that kept him alive for so long. Desperately, he checked every room he came across, until he found the one with his heart.

“Tony,” he breathed, the name like a precious kiss on his lips.

The man in question was awake, just barely, an oxygen mask placed over his face, skin still grayish and lacking his usual golden color, but he was still the most brilliant, lustrous thing Steve had ever seen, radiating such light and life that Steve couldn’t help but immediately feel safe in his presence.

Steve basked in the glow even as he rushed over to his side. “Tony,” he repeated, like a mantra – the only mantra he had.

“Steve,” Tony rasped from behind the oxygen mask.

“Yes, what is it?” Steve said, elated at the fact that Tony had recovered enough to talk. He felt light, joyful. Like he could run off into the clear blue sky without a care in the world.

“Steve, you...absolute fucking idiot.”

Oh.

Tony moved his hand slightly, just enough that he could grab Steve’s own. “Believe me, when I’m out of here I’m going to give you the rant of a lifetime.”

“I did it to save you,” Steve said, clutching onto the hand like a lifeline.

“Mm,” Tony hummed dismissively. “Thanks. I hate you, you idiot. But I want to cuddle. Angrily,” he said, as if that would change Steve’s mind.

Steve didn’t argue, didn’t say anything, simply climbed onto the bed and laid on his side by Tony, with his head on his chest, next to his heart that glowed so brightly it outshone everything else – even the brightest star in a crystalline night sky.

He knew that, as long as that heart shone, he would as well.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr at scaryy-noodles!


End file.
